The thoughts of a young man are hidden in the midsummer evening wind,
We didn't intend to rub shoulders, but we fell in love with each other at a glance.
He hid the throbbing in his heart and deliberately distanced himself from it;
He was full of tenderness and clumsily approached step by step.
The desks are separated by an inch, and my thoughts are separated by thousands of mountains and seas.
Ambiguity is false, forbearance is true,
Misunderstandings go round and round, and preferences are never hidden.
It turns out that the evening wind blew everywhere that year,
It's not the night breeze that missed me,
I was willing to make a mistake between his eyes.
Concept: The process of secret love